For a long time she surveyed a row of towering holly-hocks, as though they offered an explanation. She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a little sigh of relief. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. Who could guarantee a safer existence outside Florence? That Sebastian seemed to have a weird immunity to the Pestilence was a trait that went unquestioned, unanswered. What sort of a standard of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage. To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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